


I Guess I'm Sort of Gay

by hellointernetmynameisjohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, F/F, Flashbacks, Hand Jobs, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:45:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellointernetmynameisjohn/pseuds/hellointernetmynameisjohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry comes to visit, all seems to be going fine until casual conversation reveals some of John's... experimentations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Guess I'm Sort of Gay

**Author's Note:**

> So before I begin, I'd just like to make it clear that thebusylilbee on Tumblr inspired me to write this. The first chapter will be loosely based on their scenario, and will most likely go slowly down hill from there ;). As a reference for the rest of the story, I'll be writing Harry as though she's being played by Alex Kingston.
> 
> Here we go,
> 
> ~ JM

***

First of all, I never meant for any of this to happen. Harry showed up and started blabbing my secrets, things I'd tried so hard to keep from Sherlock for fear that they would end our friendship, and what do you know, I was right.

***

It all started on a chilly Wednesday morning in late November. I was just coming back from a milk run, after an utterly ridiculous domestic with Sherlock over whose turn it was to do the shopping. As if he's  _ever_ done the shopping. I was stocking the cabinets when a robed, grogey Sherlock walked out of his room, stretching.

"Oh, you're back." His bored draw was a bit more gravely than usual.

"Nice to see you, too. Did you sleep?" I asked, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

"I solved the case while you were out, and after a week, I felt it was a bit overdue."

"What do you mean you solved the case?" I asked, shutting the cabinet above me with a snap. 

"Well, I revisited the crime scene and found that Anderson's team had missed several pieces of vital evidence, namely specimens of dried skin that our murder had left behind. Upon further inspection, I found them to contain minute traces of urushiol, the organic compound responsible for poison ivy, oak, and sumac. That narrowed the suspect pool dramatically, and gave Molly something to test the victim's skin for, as a way of determining precisely where on the suspect we should check for a rash. This evidence also allowed for a vastly different suspect list, as poison ivy isn't commonly found in the alleys of London. This narrowing of the suspect list permitted me to authorize the arrest of the girl's brother and father, although, that was for illegal cultivation of cannabis. Accidentally, that cultivation is also what caused the entire family to get the rash on their hands, everyone except the victim. She'd discovered her family's dirty secret and decided to go to the police. Little sis, sweet murderous little sis couldn't let that happen, so she strangled her sister and drove her body to a dumpster far into the city. We found trace evidence in her car and on her sister's neck. Another case solved all thanks to poison ivy."

"You truely are amazing, you know? Don't ever forget it." I said, smiling at the marvelous detective. 

"You really think so, or are you just trying to flatter me so I'll clean up later?"

"A combination of the two." I said, brushing against him as I pushed past to collect the dirty dishes from his room.

He takes the dishes from me as I turn to head back into the kitchen and that's when I know something is up.

"Are you voluntarily doing dishes?" I asked, my hand on my hip and one eyebrow raised.

"N-No," he said, his voice faltering. "You asked me to, didn't you?"

Absolutely certain then, I said, "You're asking mewhat I said? Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes?"

"Dammit, I was so close, too!" Sherlock said, dropping his gaze as the sink began to fill. He continued his thought after I glared at him. "Harry's stopping by."

All the blood drained from my face.  _Harry, here?! SHERLOCK DOESN'T KNOW ABOUT--_ "God, you didn't invite her, did you? Oh, who am I kidding, no one invites her, she just sort of shows up."

As if on cue, there was a knock and then my sister was in our flat.

"John, where are you, sweetie?" Harry rounded the corner to the kitchen, and I tried to make myself look even smaller than I am.

"Little brother, it's so good to see you! How long has it been?" Sherlock groaned at these words and moved around the table, leaving the dishes soaking, and began opening cabinet after cabinet. 

I sighed and shrugged, extremely uncomfortable and a tiny bit cross. "Bit over two years, I believe. And I'm not your little brother!"

"Yeah you are, you've got Mum's genetics. You're shorter than I am," she said, tossing her handbag on the table.

I heard Sherlock snickering behind me and I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" I said, clenching my fists by my sides in a failed effort to stay calm.

"Oh, don't act so ignorant, John. It doesn't suit you," she said, digging around in her bag.

Sherlock butted in over my shoulder. "Trust me, he's not acting."

"Hey, both of you, watch it." Sherlock chuckled and went back to preparing his tea, having finally found what he was looking for: the kettle.

"Sorry, about Mary, by the way, John. Just horrid, what happened." Harry looked genuinely sympathetic for all of two seconds, before pulling a flask out of her coat pocket.

"No!" I shouted, pulling the flask away from her. "I'll not have you drinking, not in my flat."

Her eyes flashed, but she put her hands down and I handed the flask back to Sherlock, who proceeded to crinkle his nose before placing it on a high shelf. 

"Honestly Harry, why are you here? You didn't just come to drink and insult me, I hope." I said, crossing my arms and glaring at her.

"I'm staying here for a few days. There's an art show going on down the street from here, and this is cheaper than getting a room somewhere," she said, though it's clear she made it up on the spot.

"And by art show you mean wine expo?" I said, cross and almost heartbroken.

"Oh, fuck off." She turned and walked into the living room, flopping down on the sofa as she arrived. 

"What happened to Jessie, Harry? I thought she was helping you with your drinking," I said, sinking down in my armchair. 

"She was. I really liked her, but then she started treating me like I'm broken. And I'm not. I'm me and I don't want to change that."

"You're not you when you drink, Harry."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd say that, but I've been drinking like this for so long that I'm not even sure what I'm like sober anymore."

"Well, these next few days will be an opportunity to find out, because there will be no drinking while you're staying under this roof."

She sighed. "I don't see how you're gonna stop me."

"Oh, don't test me. I fought in a war, you know."

The kettle began to whistle, and I could hear Sherlock getting a glass. 

"So, John, how's your love life been since Mary passed away? Get laid lately?"

I heard a slight sharp intake of breath from the kitchen behind me, and suddenly the clanking of a silver spoon in a china glass paused.  _Why does Sherlock care if I'm getting any?_

"No, not lately (cue clanking), but I've been meaning to get back out there, I just feel it's a bit too soon."

"She's been gone almost a year, John."

Sherlock made his way to his armchair, balancing his tea on a stack of books as he tucked his legs up to his chest, wiggling his baretoes as he picked his tea back up. 

"I-- I'm just not ready yet," I said, flashing a quick glance back at Sherlock's wiggly toes.

"You know what you need? A good, hard fuck. God, it's been ages since you shagged a man! Shit, what was the last one's name? Daniel? David? Doug? Something with a 'd'."

I started to panic at her words, thinking,  _Dammit, dammit, dammit all! Two minutes alone with her is all I would have needed to keep that a secret. Sherlock's going to think-- shit._

Sherlock looked as though he was going to be sick. His face had gone quite pale and he immediately excused himself to his room, leaving his tea cup on the floor. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't been very active lately, I've been very preoccupied with life, but I'm back, for the escape. :D I look forward to writing the rest of this, and maybe finishing my other one, I don't know, but as always I love to hear from you guys, about my work, about yours, or just about things that you guys are going through in your lives, whether it be a family member suffering from alcoholism, or maybe you're in the closet and you feel trapped by your situation, or you're personally going through anything difficult, I'm always here to talk. You can talk to me here, on Wattpad at sherlocksfall, on Tumblr at hellointernetmynameisjohn.tumblr.com or send me an email at garmangreta@gmail.com. I'm here for you, sweeties.


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